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[Disclaimer: Jess is a bitch who likes bitching, take it or leave it.]

No statistics have ever proven that Love should be found before the age of 30 – or 25 whatever the cultural environment dictates; nor that one should marry or have children before the age of 30. Yet people seem to obsess with settling down with someone before they turn a specific age, 30 being the most popular. It almost becomes a race between friends and acquaintances – girls mostly, but guys too. She got engaged before I did; look at that rock on her finger; they got pregnant already!

What statistics seem to prove however is that each year half the number of people getting married, get divorced. There, I am also giving you the gilded version of the data, most sources would plainly say that 50% of marriages end in divorce each year. Not that by this interpretation this is any better, despite variation per country and per age group. This isn’t all: statistics also seem to demonstrate a higher divorce rate for those who marry in their twenties. All in all 10% of all marriages end in divorce within the first 5 years, with chances decreasing proportionally to the age of the bride and groom*.

Why is this so?

Quoting one of my best friends with whom I often muse about what the future holds for spinsters like us: who says love should be found within the first third of your life? Love can come at any time in your life, it doesn’t necessarily materialize before you turn 30.

Now we may come across as women on the verge of desperation listening to their marriage clock ticking… It’s indeed not desperation. I would rather call it schadenfreude, the same that seem to show through when certain couples act like they know the secret of life an true love and don’t miss a chance to remind you – single woman – how you are ‘failing’ for not being a in relationship and preach you should find a boyfriend to settle down and be happy with, like they are. Oh, and they hold hands and cuddle while they patronize you.

Only to realize short after that the flame of passion has extinguished and their perfect happy relationship isn’t so perfect after all. And on they go on a quest for the next disposable love. Short after could be a few weeks, or months, or even a few years of marriage (children included). No worries, I am in no hurry. When that day comes I’ll be the one looking at you with schadenfreude in my eyes.

Okay, forgive the hormonal driven spinster rant.

Why I am still single? The last thing I want to do is place the reason of my happiness on another person, lose my individual identity only to drown in an unhappy relationship solely for the sake of conforming to the rules of ‘normal’ society. Why are you in a relationship?

Imagine a path running across the earth surface for each of the 7 billion people that make up today’s world population. Isn’t it impressive? Paths overlap, run in parallel and intertwine; the earth surface lays covered by the cluster of crossing paths.

If you look at the million times paths cross, you will be struck at how easy it can be for people to cross paths at some stage in their lives, even if they live at the other side of the hemisphere. Paths may cross multiple times in a lifetime, cross and run close to each other afterwards or briefly pass through and then proceed their own ways.

Right – this means Mr Perfect, Mr Price Charming, Mr Right, Mr I am your Man and all their fellows cross my path at least a thousand times a year. Where the hell are you all hiding? It’s 2013, how can you possibly not have figured out how to track me down? In the era of the internet and social media, in the era of Love at first Profile Picture, let me help you out: there are a number of online resources you can use to search for me, publications on newspapers, or you can simply go back to the place you noticed me at the same time of the day on the same weekday until I finally get back there. And we lived happily ever after.

I wish I said Hello is a celebration of everyday poetics, a physical mapping of digital network, a commentary on the role of technology in human communication.

Easy, isn’t it? But I am still waiting. I have already tried different alternatives, looking for love in the workplace, on social media, at a high altitude, it is about time my beau came to find me! I am pinning all my hopes on re-encountering my missed connection(s) with my love(s).

Yet, I seem to have been cursed with a parade of Mr Wrong, Mr A$$hole and Mr Frog that’ll never turn into a Prince. Why? Why? Why?

Jess has recently developed a bizarre fascination for the TV program TakeMe Out – both the UK and Irishversion. For those of you who want to pretend they haven’t seen the show – or secretly wished to be in it – here’s what it is about: Take Me Out is a dating game show where a single guy tries to impress 30 single girls and obtain a date with one of them. The girls all stand behind a luminous station which they can turn off if they are not interested in the bachelor in question. Through 3 rounds the guy can introduce himself, display a skill or play a pre-recorded video in which friends and family reveal more about him (not always the greatest of ideas). If at least one girl keeps her light on, the guy is going on a date with her. If more girls keep their light on, the guy gets to choose which girl to take out.

I have learnt a few things by watching the show, here they are:

British guys tend to be more good-looking than Irish guys. Or so me thinks.

British girls tend to be thinner than Irish girls. (at least the ones on the show).

Fair play to Ireland that celebrates beauty in all shapes. In fact, Irish girls have bigger boobs.

British guys are generally better groomed and have a better sense of style, although a bit too metrosexual. Yet, Irish guys, please get rid of that ugly checked shirt that you all love so much and those flare jeans completely worn at the heel…please.

Both British and Irish girls tend to have a showy kitsch sense of style (sorry girls, I am Italian… I am from a different fashion school).

Both British and Irish guys fall for the flashy girls that are inevitably out of their league.

Despite being really nice and fun and witty, some girls never get chosen because they are pretty, but not as brassily attractive as some other girls.

The Irish blokes are really reserved, slightly awkward when they have to talk to girls (and haven’t got booze flowing down their veins…). British guys however can be quite cheesy (with or without booze).

Girls from both side of the pond are very coquettish, uninhibited and allusive when trying to convince the guy to chose them for a date. I wonder what happened to the demure charm of good girls…I am old for thinking this way, aren’t I?

Way too many guys out there are too close and too dependant on their mother.

You will have to admit that the French makes it sound like something cool – Demoiselle en Détresse. Being a Damsel in Distress is all but cool, though. A damsel is normally a passive, whining woman from the Middle Age whose sole purpose in life is to be rescued by her dashing hero. Iconography suggests damsels in distress would often happen to be [voluntarily or involuntarily] caught up in treacherous conditions: trapped in towers, threatened by dragons, cursed by magic, tied to rocks or railroad tracks – until, here comes the knight errant, performing the most daring deeds in the name of the defenceless lady.

The helpless maidens of the past have been replaced by the resilient, competent women of today, who can live their lives and pursue a career. Knights in shining armours are no longer required.

Still, this ‘being rescued’ thing appeals to women, it must be encoded in their DNA. Even the most emancipated and fulfilled women show a tendency to fall for caring [male] individuals, who heal and make them feel good – preferably if not the least interested or attracted to them.

The infatuation is normally triggered by any situation where the woman feels exposed and the man gives her care. The Gynaecologist CrushComplexis what it is called today (what better metaphor, women ‘exposed’ – literally!).

All the elements to fall prey to the infatuation combine in one of the most vulnerable yet voluntary moments in a woman’s life: wearing a white coat (let’s not forget the charm of the armour) your gyno accesses your most intimate parts, views them with so much [professional] interest, while holding vaginal discourse; you can tell him things you would never tell anyone else, his voice is calm and his hands are firm and warm. Your heart flutters and you feel excited like a schoolgirl. You get all dolled and trimmed up before seeing him, with the desire of pushing the boundaries.

There are 95% chances that if you are are female you will blush at reading this, for you have had a crush on your gynaecologist too! If it’s not your gynaecologist, it is your doctor, your therapist, your teacher, your personal trainer. Caring, nurturing and appealing individuals. It seems like natural to develop a very comfortable relationship and “fall in love”.

Unlike the knights in shining armour who regarded the saving of demoiselles in need as essential part of their raison d’être (French sounds so very learned!), today’s saviours have a pure professional interest in their patient. The Truth is, women don’t even know if the gyno/doctor/teacher/personal trainer they’re in love with is …gay.

And you, have you ever had a crush on your doctor/gyno/teacher/personal trainer/etc? Did it remain platonic?

A message to self and to my fellow spinsters : we are 30ish and we are still saying “When I get married..”. It is not even “if I get married”, it’s “when”.

Let’s face it, most women only want to get married. However, finding Mr Right is an interminable quest, so many girls would just turn any good-enough date into the ‘right’ one – as fast as possible (seize the day!). In women’s mind it pretty much goes like this:

“Hey, I just met you and this is crazy, but I am already picturing out our wedding day and life together”.

Premature Marriage Commitment is to women between 25 and 40 what Premature Ejaculation is to teenage boys.

According to WikipediaPremature Ejaculation is that condition in which a man ejaculates earlier than his partner would like him to. Now, by that definition, women suffer from Premature Marriage Commitment, that condition in which a woman commits to a marriage-track relationship way earlier than her partner (date would be a more appropriate term at this stage of the relationship) would like her to.

If men manage to slow down as they age, women’s rapidity to commit to marriage gets faster and faster as they get old.

What are the causes of Premature Marriage Commitment?

Hundreds of years of programming to fear spinsterhood that feminism and modern women emancipation have not been able to erase.

During the happy first five years in their twenties, women live in the belief that there will always be quality men they want to marry and that they can save marriage for after they launch their career, only to wake up one day at the magical age of 30 and realize that their dating market power is on the decline (Ouch!!).

What are the signs of Premature Marriage Commitment?

~ You barely know her and you are instantly in a Facebook Relationship (or even better, she has deleted your Facebook profile, to create one of you two);

~ You tell her that you will call her the day after a date and she calls you as soon as you walk in your house after the date;

~ She is obsessed with your family;

~ She has her wedding day planned already, down to the colour of the bridesmaids’ dresses and flower arrangement.

How to prevent Premature Marriage Commitment?

You can’t. Any form of romantic attention is taken very seriously. Anything you say is translated into marriage-vocabulary in her mind, there is nothing you can say to her to make her think you don’t love her. Even if you stop being nice and amusing her, she will try even harder to prove how much you love her.

If you have met a narrow marriage-minded girl, you are trapped. Keep calm and say “I do”.

It’s not even fair to say that I hate Ryanair, I am kinda getting used to travelling Ryanair. Let’s take the fact that Ryanair does not pre-assign seats to its passengers, for instance. Most people hate that you have to start queuing – standing (and pushing) – at the boarding gate, ages before the plane even lands from its previous flight. Once on the plane you have to fight for seats. Sounds detestable? To most people probably. I happen to be travelling on my own quite frequently and Ryanair’s non-assigned seating has become of interest to me. I know that I am destined to find my better half on a plane. How do I know? There aren’t many other options left, I have tried a few and didn’t work (you can check my previous posting).

Ryanair serves the purpose quite well: I usually am one of the first passengers to board the plane (but I am not among those who push, I swear, I am small and can sneak in); I carefully choose a seat, at the beginning or end of the plane. I sit alone, casually throwing glances at the people walking along the aisle, waiting for Mr Right to pass by – along the aisle, how odd – notice me and take the seat next to mine. And they lived happily ever after.

Never happened, not a single time, not a single decent guy to take the seat next to mine and flirt with me.

It’s not my plane lover’s fault, though, there is always an elderly couple that doesn’t leave him time to find me. What is it in me that attracts elderly couples? They just interfere with the plane love game. It is well-known how men play this game, the trick is either to play it safe and and choose the first potential date you see (either at the beginning or end of the plane depending on where you board from), or hold out for someone ‘better’, scanning all seats and ending to have to settle at the end of the aisle for waiting too long (or beginning, depending on where you board from).

This would work out perfectly, if it wasn’t for that elderly couple always choosing me as a travel companion! This is why I hate Ryanair: instead of being squeezed in a rendez-vous at a high altitude with a hot stranger, I always end up squeezed in next to loudly snoring elderlies!

Like this:

Interoffice dating has always been taboo for me. Statistics, however, demonstrate that office romance is far from being unusual. Figures vary from survey to survey, but I haven’t found one where the percentage of people who have dated a co-worker was lower than 40%. They say that if it is not you, then the colleague sitting next to you has dated a co-worker. Check. The colleague sitting next to me is married to a co-worker. The population of my (multinational) company, seems to conform to the statistics (I assume we have no policy that forbids office dating). Quite a few employees are dating, have dated, have married and have had children with a co-worker. Given my spinsterhood status, I guess I will have to give it a try. It sounds like a good alternative. What else is left anyway – internet dating? I still prefer meeting people in the flesh.

As we live in an era where we spend more time in work than doing anything else, why not take Time Management to a whole new and personal level? Nothing makes your time management more efficient than dating someone from the office. It saves a whole lot of time, as you don’t have to search for a special someone by engaging in social activities outside office hours. Also, if you work together you both live within reasonable dating distance, which is gonna save you cash too, as you can bypass the early stages of conventional dating where it is all about going out to dinner etc. Once the relationship is established you will even be able to carpool.

The workplace is a breeding ground for flirtation. You lock eyes a few times, you chat nicely over a coffee or in the smoking area, you chat extra nicely at the company social event over booze. The question is: who is date-worthy? For someone who has always considered dating a co-worker against their own ethics, identifying who could be worth the hassle, ain’t that easy.

Dating your manager – nah, not for me, not someone that controls your salary and compensation. It may be an advantage when it’s all a bed of roses (despite the gossip and the dangers of favouritism), but what if the relationship doesn’t end in fairy tale style? Better to stay within your hierarchy.

Dating a colleague from the same floor – sounds like the easiest option. You pretty much get the chance to “randomly” bump into each other at any time; you can lock eyes over the pc screen, there are a million work related excuses to have to go talk to each other face to face; there is the thrill of being close without the others knowing and being intimate when the others aren’t looking (ehmm.. remember the only thing you should get caught ‘making’ at work, is money for your company). You meet everyday, any time of the day… 40 hours per week…that will feel like an eternity when you break up or when he/she is flirting with other colleagues. Option flunked.

Dating a colleague from another department – sounds less dangerous. It may be harder to test the waters and understand if your chosen one has the hots for you too, but once the relationship takes off, you have the advantage of being close but not so close to be overwhelmed by the other’s presence. Being in constant contact can cause a relationship to fall apart just as quickly as it developed. The moments spent together become precious and are filled with playful jokes, love notes, polite pecks (same rule as to what you should be caught making at work applies). Plus if you break up you don’t have to endure the pain of seeing each other all the time. Tempting option.

Dating a colleague from another site – here you do not have the advantage of being within reasonable dating distance, but you certainly have the advantage of not having to care about morning after regrets. I personally can’t figure how this would be anything more than a fling, but if it ever survived for the long haul, I would recommend choosing the location carefully, as you may actually end up asking to be transferred and then live in said location. Option to be considered (remember the City is dull and rainy…).

I am still not convinced about office dating, but I certainly have options to consider (sunny place to move to? a sweatheart in some hidden corner of the building?). Now tell me, are you in favour or against office dating? Don’t have to leave your name, take the anonymous poll below. Feel free to add your insights on office dating in the comments below.

Like this:

Whoever said that men are commitment phobic, well, they are wrong. In fact, men show commitment to many things.
In general they have a sincere commitment to football (be that Italy, or rugby, be that Ireland). They would choose their favourite team when they are just kids – or inherit it from their father and siblings -and stick to it for the rest of their life. They wouldn’t miss a single match, football is sacred. Every Sunday (and any other Championship day) is totally devoted to football. Now, that is commitment.

They can then show high levels of commitment to: the TV remote controller; brands of cars and motorbikes and other smaller machines, such as computers and mobile phones; magazines (sports and porn); dvds (just porn); booze; video games, playstation, X box and so on and so forth. They tend to be very proud of their collections of all the above mentioned.
They are also well committed to their mum. When they are 6, when they are 12, when they are 18, 24, 30, 36, 42, 48, etc. They claim they are free spirits and need their freedom and space… for themselves and their mum to come along and cuddle them at any time – cook for them, iron for them, clean their mess, criticize their girlfriend, apply pressure on them to make decisions. They might not stand her at times, nevertheless she would always be allowed to stick around.

Men love commitment in relationships too. As long as the woman commits first and from the very first moment. As long as she quits her job, family, friends, hometown and career just to join them wherever they are and support them do whatever they want to do, they’re happy to commit. Or better, they feel relieved. They like it to have someone willing to share joys and sorrows with them, to take on responsibilities, duties and decisions. Just two are the conditions: they reserve the right to desire and seek sexual variety; they reserve the right not t to share profits and financial resources.

Women on their part commit from the very beginning, quitting job, family, friends, hometown and career, with no such conditions as men. At a certain point they just want their commitment to be officially recognized and possibly reciprocated. Marriage or official cohabitation is what women want, but both break the 2 rules set by men as a limit to their commitment. Ergo, the answer is no.

Does this mean women are destined to accept men’s commitment-limits forever? No, relax, there is still hope. Sooner or later men will pop the question. Maybe. Or maybe they won’t. Or maybe they will – marriage is just paperwork in the end.
Some of them might surprise you as they would have valid reasons not to marry you and then they would go on holiday and come back after a few days truly and totally committed to some exotic woman (breathe in deeply and repress your homicide instinct).

My dear single girlfriends, I am afraid there is no happy conclusion to this blog of mine. But we love men anyway. I can only advise all of you to learn from their own rules.

Opinions may clash. The most romantic ones would certainly say that love is forever, or at least that you have to think it will last forever (at the very best stages of it). But someone else would say that when there is undeniable chemistry and the time together is limited, that is when love reaches its utmost intensity.

From A to B – this is how the inspiration source of this blog defined the whole concept (I care to point out that the person in question is a guy): you start a relationship knowing it will go from A to B, you know where it starts and you know where it ends. Both agree to it. This type of relationship with a deadline apparently lets your inhibitions go and your emotions spark. There is no worry about long term impact, no dramatic plans for the future, no expectations on the relationship or on the other. No strings attached, isn’t that what it is called? Once the inevitable moment comes, both parties go their own way and never look back. No long distance commitment. And no broken hearts.

It sounds cool (I have never tried this though). The awareness that this love will soon be over enhances the moments together. There is no room for jealousy, as the relationship is not destined to progress anyway. Does it matter if he throws his eyes at someone else’s booty? No, and you are free to check out what is on the market too (for when the goodbye moment comes).

You have nearly convinced me that dating with an expiration date is great. I am not a fan of long distance relationships – prince charming is not so that charming over the phone or through emails and chat. So I figure this is the best approach I should have with guys I meet here in Dublin (let’s face it, I am not going to spend the rest of my life in this weather and neither will the majority of guys that move here to work).

I mean, so far I have tried to carefully chose who to date and who not to date, but it’s true that you cannot help who you fall for or the timing of the fall. Even though every date is a potential mate, not all dates are marriage material anyway, so why not? It sounds like I have plan: if any short-term relationship appears on my radar, I won’t try to outflank it (again), I will come to terms with it. Once decided where A and B are, we will be free to enjoy it while it lasts. This is a moment of triumphant discovery, I am picturing it all already: we meet, we like each other, we don’t have much time to spend together, we long to be together even more, we agree on our expiration date, we start our sparking relationship; we enjoy every minute, not a moment of jealousy, just love . And when the farewell moment arrives.. we will amicably terminate this relationship… won’t we?

Every fairy tale worthy of the name ends the same way, Happily Ever After. I really wonder, though, if Cinderella, Snow-white, the Sleeping Beauty and Rapunzel all really lived a happy marriage for the rest of their lives. We never get to know how they lived, what happened after they married Prince Charming.

Women are dreamers by nature. We dream and day-dream about our Prince Charming from a very early age. Fairy tales are the first visual (ah the power of Disney!) and metaphorical example of relationships children –dangerously – get in contact with. They provide the idea of the female role: a victim who is in a sad and dangerous situation and can only be rescued by a handsome prince. He will even fight fire spewing dragons with his bare hands to save her and protect her, driven by the power of his love. It’s extreme love that makes you do the craziest things.

We seem to be dreaming of chivalric romance all the time, we don’t want any ordinary man, we want an adventurous and brave one, we want passion, a man that can do crazy things for us, make our heart beat fast. This is the message fairy tales, as well as tv, cinema, music and all other media provide.

Many women in their 20s, 30s and even 40s are still waiting for that Prince, puzzled he hasn’t yet shown up to rescue them, obsessing that he will show up eventually and make everything Happily Ever After.

As women of the second decade of the 21st century we should know that ‘Happily Ever After marriage’ does not exist. Even the healthiest relationships have ups and down. Nowadays far too many relationships end up like real nightmares. The one that savedyou once, the one that did something crazy for you, may turn out to be paranoid, manipulative, controlling – often very subtly – and keep you captive in the relationship. For some reason you feel it is your duty and your mission to obey and second him, thinking the power of Love will change him. But Happily Ever After will not come.

After wanting that Prince for so long, convinced he has finally come to the rescue, a lot of women are ready to forgive and endure frustration and humiliation, in the name of love. Insane acts seem to be part of the profile of Prince Charming after all. He is your hero, he knows, and will often brag about how he saved you, what poor miserable thing you were before you met him. You not being miserable depends on being with him.

He’s charming – that’s one reason you fell in love with him, loves all eyes on him, he has followers and supporters (insecure and unhappy people that would love to be as narcissistic as he is); anything that happens that you don’t like, never happened or it is you being your usual stupid self; he re-writes history to tell it the way that pleases him and to make people believe the lies he is living.

Crazy love sounds like a great thing in words, but not when crazy means abusing and non-respectful, not when crazy acts offend, insult, humiliate and hurt. Not when they become insane beyond all parameters of imagination. Not when being with a Prince Charming means being held isolated and controlled. Not when you have to walk on egg shells not to upset him, when your dignity is crushed (even in public), when your needs and feelings are neglected and sabotaged.

“Cinder” by Dina Goldstein (caption added)

Emotional abuse*, unlike physical violence, can pass unnoticed for a very long time. It becomes part of the routine, it becomes part of normality. The abuser operates very subtly and in secret, slowly mining the self esteem of the other to make her feel the bad one, stupid, inadequate. It alters the victim’s sense of reality. It is hard for a victim of emotional abuse to recognize how serious the situation is (and accept the term ‘abuse’ as part of her life). It might take years for her to take conscience of what is really going on. Abusive acts might be so subtle that no one else will ever become aware of the on-going situation. Yet, the victim of emotional abuse is living a nightmare. Still the victim of emotional abuse keeps on justifying those same acts (justifying her reality). So low is the self esteem of the abused, that she will struggle to admit to herself that she is not responsible for such disrespectful behaviour. She is in such need for love and fears being abandoned (yes by her torturer) that she will endure the pain that goes with it. She has become numb to the violence.

Emotional abuse is a crime.

No fairy tale tells the story of how a princess managed to leave her abusing prince, despite the economic difficulties, despite the religious pressure and cultural believes, but you can write this story yourself: gain conscience of what love is and love isn’t (despite the apology and forgiveness that follow every attack, he feels no remorse); realize you have been abused and don’t deserve being abused; seek help, you are not supposed to do this alone; leave; get the abuser out of your head. Never go back to the victim role. It will finally be Happily Ever After.

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*Emotional Abuse is NOT a prerogative of men, I do apologize for depicting the male abuser scenario only. I have known both male and female narcissistic abusers in my life. This blogpost just came from deep in my heart and is dedicated to someone I love. It takes time to heal.